Christmas is coming. The trees are trimmed, most of the presents bought. It is a time of quiet darkness and peace. The kids, who arent really kids anymore, lie asleep in their beds, and maybe it isnt sugar plums that dance in their heads, but instead, computers or bikes or clothes or gadgets so far advanced that Santa could only have dreamed their fanciful design, years ago, in the deep and blinding cold of the north. My little wife sleeps and her dreams are of happy animals, running free and easy, not denying there consumpative fate, but at least their little time on the earth is spent as well as can be before they are culled from their herds or flocks to be eaten by hungry animals; human animals who have dominion over them. Carter Beauford twitches and mutters dog expressions as he dreams of bones with marrow and bits of cheese to swallow whole. He lets the cold air and the darkness lull the invading squirrels to sleep. There will be time for chasing and catching their bushy tails come spring. The squirrels are sleeping, too, and in their nests they lay with the buckeyes they have been hording; risking life and limb and the ferocious set of dog jaws to feed and fight the cold and its life-stripping force. And me, I soak it in, as best a winter - hater can. I worry too, like the squirrels, have I packed away enough buckeyes and acorns to last through the cold and dark? Will the furnace last the winter; will the pipes freeze again? But the heat stays on, and the days still pass. And right now, with my sugar-plum-free children and my vegan animal loving wife, and my loyal dog Carter, all here together under this roof, all is well. And it is Christmastime. A baby was born 2000 years ago, and Son of God, or son of man, matters little to me. Love each other, he said. And the miracle of loving is all the miracle I need. And real was He or false, the message stays. Christmas is coming, love one another.
Posted on: Sat, 20 Dec 2014 13:53:26 +0000
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